The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic
by anakosama
Summary: Has anyone else noticed some striking trends in Fake fanfiction recently?
1. Default Chapter

Author's note: I clearly have no right to the intellectually property of either Sanami Matoh or the countless devoted fans who write Fake fanfiction. I also have to admit that this series was written way back in the incipient days of Fake fanfiction, so can't really attest that all fanfics still have the same trends. But it wouldn't surprise me.

An evil being sat and schemed. This didn't seem to be an impressive evil being. It was just a female teenage evil being, but female and teenage are a deadly combination even in mortals, and so a female teenage evil being was the most dangerous evil being of all, especially since this particular female teenage evil being was seriously PMSing.

The evil being licked her evil lips and rose from her evil collection of anime. She felt the need to create something—something evil, of course—, but she didn't know what. Then an evil thought struck her evil brain, and an evil idea was formed. She would create. . .the ultimate Fake fanfic.

Or, to follow convention, the evil ultimate Fake fanfic. But first she would need to think of a name to call it—an evil name—, because saying evil ultimate Fake fanfic twisted her evil tongue, and while this made it the most evil name of all, it also pissed her off. It would be called a Fake-fic. Fan-fake. Fan-Fake-fic.

Evil ultimate Fake fanfic.

Perfect.

And so, presented to you from the female teenage evil being in her evil cave in her evil world, at last arrives:

The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic 

By Female Teenage Evil Being, or FTEB

Ryo sat angrily at his desk. He ran his slender fingers through his fair hair, narrowed his deep, dark eyes, formed a frown on his beautiful face, and sulked. Why was he sulking?

None of your business.

And why is it none of your business?

Because, being genuinely angry and upset, Ryo didn't really feel like recounting all of his troubles in a clear, comprehensive, step-by-step list. After all, he was already fully aware of them and they were obviously not happy thoughts, and so forcing him to dwell on the source of all his pain is very inconsiderate of you. I think you owe Ryo an apology.

Accepted.

But since you twisted his arm, I guess you'll find out.

It was because JJ had jumped on Dee this morning. And why did it anger him so much this day, when it had happened thousands of times in the past?

No idea.

Or rather, Ryo had no idea. I actually have a very clear idea. It's because this is the evil ultimate Fake fanfic, and no one is reading this for the suspense-less suspense story, and we want the Ryo-Dee thing to gain some speed. And if, by chance, you are reading this for the mind-numbing mystery, why did the chicken cross the road? That'll keep you for a while.

And so, why was Ryo bothered by the morning's incident? Did Dee this time accept JJ's advance? Nope. He screamed and yelled and shoved like he always did. Did JJ in any way further his. . .physical courting of Dee? 'Course not, what kind of sicko are you? This might be the ultimate evil fanfic, but the laws of decency (and physics) are still in effect. Had Ryo and Dee had a fight recently? No. Or actually, yes. It had involved arguing and yelling and Ryo pushed against a wall, but that was a good fight.

And so, we aren't left with a clear idea as to why Ryo was angry. As it happens, though, Ryo didn't have a clear idea as to why he was angry either. But while righteous anger is infamous, ignorant anger is even worse, because you can hardly forgive a crime you haven't named yet, and so Ryo remained pissed off.

Therefore, since I don't have anything more left to say right now, at that moment, Dee walked through the door and sat down at his desk. He sighed, tilted back his head of sleek black hair, and glanced around the room with his sparkling jade eyes, which, incidentally, were ideally set in his gorgeous face. If anyone wants to throw up now, be my guest.

"So, Ryo," he began. "That was some stake-out, huh?"

Ha. There was no stake-out. We all know Dee and Ryo never actually do anything at their job. They just spend their time sitting pretty and dissing the chief. The 27th Precinct of the New York Police Department—that's right, all fifty gay officers—does nothing all day. Which is precisely why those of you who watch the show for the "adventure" are so pathetic. By the way, if you solved the chicken riddle already, what kind of chicken was it?

It was lemon-pepper chicken, because I happen to be hungry and I like lemon-pepper chicken. Want some?

No? More for me, then.

But, anyway, back to the story. . .

"Yes," Ryo replied shortly. "It was." Ryo never had been the most brilliant orator.

It was then that JJ, dressed very much like a cardboard lollipop, came into the room and moved to hug Dee. "I'm so glad you're safe! I was so afraid you would get hurt, and I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt!"

Dee shoved him off angrily. "Would you calm down? We were watching a stupid convenience store, and the suspect was an old woman armed with her fake teeth!"

Right. Like they ever get that much action.

Undeterred, JJ whipped out a bouquet of sixteen roses and dropped it on Dee's desk. "I brought these for you. I hope you like them."

Dee leapt to his feet, strode to JJ, and kissed him passionately. The kiss lasted for several minutes, that I can tell you, but all tongue activity will be omitted from this fic. As you well know, I just ate.

And why did, or rather, how could Dee kiss JJ, with Ryo watching to boot?

First things first. I think we've heard quite enough about Ryo for the time being, so that can be a little detail we'll ignore. Second of all, Dee's reasons will be dramatically revealed in just a moment. Man, you're impatient. And third, and perhaps most important. . .we're almost two pages into the story already, and Dee hasn't kissed anyone yet. That's an atrocity worthy of hanging, lynching, and four hours of Marmalade Boy. For you see, Dee is an astoundingly good kisser. He is quite probably the best kisser in New York, and this is a title achieved through hours of laborious practice. And since Ryo is rarely game, he has to keep it up with someone.

As for those of you who insist on knowing Ryo's activities during the aforementioned several minutes, he was sitting at his desk with a twitching eye and all of hell on his mind. And because he had never had real opportunities to use it before (except to look hot on manga covers), it occurred to Ryo for the first time how conveniently close he kept his gun. But he decided shooting anyone wouldn't be the smartest thing to do. He couldn't shoot Dee, for various reasons. And he couldn't shoot JJ, because at the angle he was at, he was unable to accomplish that without shooting Dee, and that had already been ruled out as an option. And, if you want the exact truth, the gun wasn't loaded. Remember: Ryo never used it. So he just sat and twitched and periodically cleared his throat until the two other officers separated and Dee returned to his place in his chair. JJ seemed speechless, and there were rivers of tears running down his cheeks. Dee tends to have that effect on people. Finally, the junior officer came out of his stupor. He didn't jump Dee at this time, because, really, would this story get anywhere if JJ spent the entire time hopping on Dee?

"Dee-Sempai," he began--yeah, he was actually American, but he had brushed up on his Japanese because Japan was all the rage these days--, "Why is it that on this most glorious day, the blooming love I hold for you you did return, when you did scorn it with a fiery passion all past times?" He had also brushed up on his Shakespeare.

Dee's jade eyes--the ones set in his gorgeous face, remember?--seemed to glisten with welling tears. "It's just that. . .no one has ever given me flowers before."

JJ seemed to notice the twitching man sitting on the other end of the room. "But, Sempai, what about Ryo-Sempai?"

"Not him, either." Dee paused as his mind registered JJ's intended meaning. What about Ryo-Sempai watching him?

Whoops.

This wouldn't reflect back very well on him in the future. Damn.

Dee plastered a panicky smile on his face and slowly turned to look at his partner.

If looks could kill. . .absolutely nothing would be happening to Dee right now, because Ryo was making quite a point of looking away. Dee frowned, unsure of what to say. Ryo was content to remain quiet, as well. There was an uncomfortable silence.

Then JJ broke it. He walked over to Ryo's line of vision and scowled. "Ryo-Sempai, you should be ashamed of yourself. How can you never have bought this man. . ." JJ pointed to Dee (It wasn't necessary. He was the only other man in the room. But JJ is a ham, and melodramatic moments demand overacting.), ". . .any flowers? You shouldn't take Dee-Sempai for granted like you do, or I'll be too glad to take him away."

Ryo looked back at him, surprised. He wasn't surprised by what JJ was saying, particularly. He was just a bit surprised that the junior officer could really think the main issue here was a bunch of roses. And so he said nothing in his defense. Of course, he never does. We love Ryo, but let's face it: he has less backbone than a squid.

Feeling this was a good, dramatic time to stomp out of the room and leave Ryo with his thoughts, JJ did just that.

The uncomfortable silence made another cameo.

The Chief popped into the room. He was ugly and hairy. "Get to work, you two," he growled. Now the mandatory Chief one-liner is over. The Chief popped out.

Dee cleared his throat and smiled apologetically, which, may I add, looked a lot better than the panicky smile he had on before, which just made him look like a doofus. "Um, Ryo, listen. That wasn't what it looked like."

Ryo blinked. It had looked like Dee had kissed JJ. He had received a wonderful view. He hadn't the slightest idea how Dee meant to cover his hiney with that line.

Neither do I.

And neither did Dee. Which is why he quickly changed tactics. "It was a mistake. I didn't mean to do it."

And he hadn't. I can't tell you how many anime conflicts I think would be solved if people stopped tripping and falling on other people's lips.

"I see," Ryo replied after a pause. "Then what did you mean to do?"

". . .Shake his hand?"

"Ah. I really must get out more often, if that's what shaking hands has come to these days."

"Oh, Ryo, please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. I'm really not." He really wasn't. He was just extremely, unbelievably furious. But he wasn't mad.

Dee wasn't sure whether to take Ryo's response as a good thing or a bad thing. He decided on neutral. "You aren't?"

"No. You see, there's something you ought to know. This isn't an easy thing for me to say, Dee, but. . . I've been having an affair with Commissioner Rose."

Dee chuckled. Then he realized that Ryo wasn't joking. "What?!"

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I meant to let one of the guys tell you, or something."

"With that good-for-nothing idiot Rose?!"

"Dee, don't say that about Berkeley."

"I would have understood if it was with the milkman or something, but...!"

"Dee, I don't have a milkman."

"Then the grocer, whatever."

"Have you ever looked at the grocer?"

"Is that really the point? I can't believe it! You shameless hussy. . ."

"At least I had enough shame not to parade it openly in front of you, like you did."

"Well, you just said you didn't care!"

"No, I didn't. I said, 'I'm not mad.'"

"'I'm really not.'"

"What?"

"That's what you said!" Dee sighed sadly and looked away. "If you really don't want me, then I guess it's over." He stood and meaningfully walked out through the door.

Ryo leaned back and glanced at his watch. "Five, four, three, two. . ."

"Get back in there, you worthless bum! What am I paying you for?!"

Dee walked back in through the door.

Ryo took a breath. Now it was his turn in the spotlight. "Listen, Dee. What I did was wrong, and I'm sorry for it. But I was just. . .frustrated, and angry."

Dee folded his arms, amused. Ryo was frustrated. This was good. But, of course, he was trying to word a tearful reconciliation here, so that little triviality could be overlooked.

"And just because I did that, and when I wasn't in my right mind, doesn't mean that I don't. . ."

"It doesn't mean that you don't love me?"

Ryo considered. He was going to say, that I don't consider you to be one of my best friends, but this would probably be more convincing . So he looked away shyly and hoped Dee would take it as acquiescence.

Dee did. "I'm sorry, too. Earlier today. . .I wasn't thinking properly. I was just a bit overwhelmed, and. . . Ryo, you are the one I want to hold. You are the person I wake up in the morning to see, and the one I go to sleep at night to dream of. You are my one sun in a star-less universe. Without you. . .there would be no universe, for me. You are the sea, you are the earth, you are the sky. . . You are my everything. . .my Ryo. . ."

Dee should really write these lines down sometime. Oh, wait. I'm already doing that.

Slowly, Dee walked to Ryo and kissed him softly.

Ryo kissed him back. An important moment had passed, a moment that had decided. . .he would think up what it decided when he wasn't otherwise engaged. At the moment, Ryo had other things to pay attention to, most of which were a lot more fun than thinking up some stupid aphorism for a dramatic conversation.

"Hey, Ryo," Dee asked when they broke off. "Is the thing with Rose over now?"

"Um. Sure. All we did was kiss once, anyway."

"Good, my Ryo."

"Um, yeah. My Dee."

"Let's go home."

Hand in hand, the two walked out the door.

Five, four, three, two. . .

"Get back in there, you worthless bums! What am I paying you for?!"

And so, ends our evil tale. You were probably expecting a real (evil) plot. That. . .that would have been good. But being the evil female teenage evil being that our author is, too bad.

For an evil ending note, this evil ultimate fanfic is not parodying Fake, the series. It is parodying Fake fanfiction, which is considerably more evil than the original Fake, and therefore has much more to go on.

And now, the female teenage evil being has to go. She's feeling cranky.


	2. The Sequel

It was one month later, and FTEB was brooding in her evil room (Do we see an evil trend developing?). There wasn't enough--there wasn't enough evil. The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic had come out. . .not enough evil. That simply wouldn't do.

FTEB rose from her evil bed and sat in her evil chair at her evil computer. She knew what to do. She would make the world cower before her! BWAHAH--hm. Sorry (not really).

She would evilly fabricate something so evil that it would make the evil gods in the evil depths of the evil dimensions shrink away in fear. She would create. . .The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic.

Wait. Déjà vu. Already did that.

Very well then. She would create. . .The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic. . .

. . .II!

And now, like an evil sequel succeeding an originally bad evil movie, comes:

The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic II: The Sequel

by FTEB

Ryo and Dee sat at their desks, quickly finishing their paper work.

Why were they hurrying so?

Because the quicker they finished, the quicker they could go home. . . winkwink

Hey, hey, hey! Get your minds out of the gutter, you freaks, it's true! Geez. . . Can't I say anything without it being taken as some kind of degenerate innuendo?

Plus, a happy worker was a busy worker. And Ryo and Dee were happy.

Why?

Read the prequel. Or, if you're too lazy, I'll just tell you.

Dee was happy because: a) Ryo loved him. He had heard him with his own ears (mind you, Dee heard it with his own ears; that doesn't mean it came out of Ryo's own mouth). b) He now knew that Lieutenant Rose was no competition. Ryo had been there, tried that, and passed it over. And as gross as that image was, it had a kind of comfort to it. c) Dee had gotten some make-out time with Ryo (always a good thing). d) He had gotten to sound really romantic and give some seriously cool lines. And finally, e) (this one I'd have to tell you either way) Ryo's birthday was coming up, and wonderful images of presents and thank you cards were drifting through his head. winkwink

You can take that one which ever way you want.

As for Ryo, well, he's always happy. He's just a contented suck-up who goes through each day with a cherub-like smile on his face. Ryo's weird. And also, being courted with the aforementioned cool, poetic lines makes anyone feel good.

And thus, both guys were working away with goofy grins on their faces when Berkeley Rose walked in. He was wearing a silk Italian three-piece suit, leather loafers, a Rolex, and five gold rings. Two diamond, one sapphire, one ruby, one emerald. Berkeley Rose likes to dress up.

Now, people say that Berkeley threw his career out the window for Ryo just by transferring into the no-good 27th Precinct. They don't know the half of it. Can anyone really believe that Berkeley is just some lowly Commissioner? Right. He was probably trained to be some kind of government agent (think James Bond) who got paid a million bucks a day. I mean, really. We're talking about a police officer who comes dressed to work as if he just got back from a formal ball. Either he has some money stacked up from days of old, or he has another source of income. I think he robs banks.

And now, our expensively dressed, fashion-conscious Commissioner strode over to the two men. "Come on. There's a hostage situation on Jefferson Avenue. I'm giving you two the assignment. I'll also come along."

"Why do you think we need you?" Dee demanded.

"You need my superior calculating and speaking abilities." Arrogant as anything, but give credit where credit is due.

"Oh, yeah? Well, get a load of this." Dee took Berkeley's hands and got a soulful look in his eyes. "'You are the person I wake up in the morning to see, and the one I go to sleep at night to dream of. You are my one sun in a star-less universe. Without you. . .there would _be_ no universe, for me. You are the sea, you are the earth, you are the sky. . . You are my everything. . .my--'"

"Ahem."

Dee stopped and turned to his partner. Ryo was standing with his arms crossed and something alike to daggers in his eyes.

"Ahem."

Dee turned back to his Commissioner. Berkeley was standing with his arms uncrossed, and with a patronizingly inquiring look on his face.

"Detective Latener, what was that supposed to be? And let go of my hands!"

Dee yanked back his hands in embarrassed disgust. "That was just a demonstration! Don't get any stupid ideas."

"Oh, but I do get ideas. Unlike you."

Man. Berkeley's harsh. What a cut. Almost as good as the disease scenario. My ears are burning. Ow.

Straightening his back, Berkeley walked over to Ryo. "Come. Detective McLane, I'm looking forward to working with you. Always a pleasure."

Subtle.

"I specifically wanted you,"--Berkeley coughed-- "on this case."

What? The flu is going around.

"I'm sure you'll be of great help," he continued. "Just keep your defenses up." Suddenly, Berkeley punched Ryo in the stomach. As Ryo gasped and crouched forward, the Commissioner stepped up to him, caught him at the waist, and kissed him.

Don't get mad at me. This isn't my fault. Berkeley Rose is desperate and hungry for affection. You want to fix the situation, give him a hug, but I'm staying out of it.

Dee's reflexes swung into action. He quickly jumped to Ryo's rescue and began pulling Berkeley off by his shiny hair. When Ryo had finally gotten free, Dee (our hero!) let go of Berkeley and stepped back, angrily. "What the hell was that supposed to be?!"

Berkeley immediately smoothed his hair and regained his composure. "That was a demonstration. Just like yours."

Good point.

"Detective McLane," he continued, "you should work on your reflexes. We'll try this again sometime. Latener--good work. Now get your coats and meet me downstairs. I'll get a vehicle ready."

That's right. We forgot about the hostage. Oh, well.

Berkeley left.

"Are you all right?" Dee asked Ryo.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Is he ever!

"Okay, then let's go. And be careful around Rose. I'll get that guy. . ."

Unfortunately, though, he won't. Beating up your employer is just not a good idea in the modern-day workplace.

Thus, Dee and Ryo left, and the matter of the kiss was forever abandoned.

Which simply doesn't work. Now then, let's start off by saying that Fake is a wonderfully researched series. But there are two things that Matoh Sanami has not accounted for. One of them, we'll save for later. The other, we'll deal with now. Fake takes place in America--in money loving, blame-pinning America. And America is the land of law-suits. Realistically, half the characters in Fake would be out of a job and faced with large fines (possibly even jail time). Can we say 'sexual harassment'?

Ryo, in a believable world, would have pressed charges against Berkeley ages ago. Seriously. Berkeley, who is Ryo's superior, aside from the rare physical attacks, as 'demonstrated' in the story, "pays extra attention to Ryo, making him feel uncomfortable." That's the verbatim definition of sexual harassment in the workplace. Get a _Webster's_ and look it up. (And if that's not it, go ahead and sue me, but you'd only be proving my earlier point.)

However, both Ryo and Matoh Sanami are too nice for anything like that, and so nothing is done. I don't buy it, but I guess it's not my call.

Actually, it is my call. Everything is within my power. I can. . .

I think we're getting a bit off topic. Indeed. By this time, the three cops had pulled over by a worn down apartment building. It wasn't the hostage site; it was JJ's home. They had decided they needed a fourth person to handle the situation, and so decided to pick up JJ, who had already finished his shift. And, if the situation was so desperate, why they decided to make this delaying stop on the way, I don't know. No one in Fake is very efficient. (Unless you put Dee in a room alone with Ryo, and then, man oh man, does he make good use of his time.) Dee had volunteered to get JJ; he knew the junior officer would be more willing to come along after his shift was over if he asked. Ryo volunteered to go with Dee; he didn't trust what JJ would do to Dee on his own home turf.

And so, the two beautiful (sorry, I had to put that in somewhere) cops rode up in the elevator and found JJ's apartment, #666. Dee knocked, and saw that the door was unlocked. With a shrug, he pushed it open and looked inside.

And, by God, what a sight it was.

Most busy young men with horrible taste live in messy mud holes that resemble pig sties more than they do human residencies. One would expect to find the floor strewn with banana peels, dirty clothes, dirty napkins, dirty dishes, and dirty magazines.

JJ's was nothing like that. His looked more like a room of a crazed Satanist ('course, who knows). The living room had no lamps, and the only light came from the hundreds of candles placed throughout. The room was otherwise entirely bare, save for a single wooden table in the center, where a thick, decorated candle was slowly burning. The walls were covered with pictures of Dee: Dee's office, Dee's apartment, Dee walking home, Dee at the grocery store, Dee at the mall, Dee sleeping at his desk, Dee in the shower (how'd that get there?), Dee eating. . . The very top of the walls was bordered by a line of script reading, "DeeDeeDeeDeeDee. . ." It wound through the room and continued into the halls and doors.

And on the far wall, obscured almost beyond recognition by dart holes, was an enlarged photograph of Ryo, with horns, a pitchfork, broken teeth, and a mustache scribbled on with magic marker.

"What in the name of. . .?" Dee began.

At that point, JJ popped into the room. "Dee-Sempai!" Then he saw the horrified expressions of the two men. Slowly, he turned and looked around.

Heheh. This is going to be interesting.

"What is this, JJ?" Ryo asked.

JJ smiled. "Oh, is this what you're worried about? Don't be silly. This is just left over from Halloween."

Good save.

"Why did you build a shrine devoted to me for Halloween?!" Dee demanded.

"To scare off the Trick-or-Treaters."

Touché.

"And why is it still up?"

"I don't have time to get it down."

"And where is the furniture?"

"Furniture? What do you think they pay me?"

"And what's with the candles?"

"Power outage."

Dee considered. "Oh. Okay."

Dee never was the brightest.

Ryo pondered for a second, then dropped the problem. "Well, weren't you going to do something?"

"Yes," JJ said. "DEE-SEMPAI!" Blindly, JJ lurched forth and launched himself at Dee, enveloping him in a death grip.

"Get off me, JJ!" Dee screamed angrily, shoving and finally kicking the love-struck fanatic away.

"I was talking to Dee," Ryo clarified as soon as JJ was a safe three centimeters away.

"No," Dee said. "No, I've changed my mind. I don't think it's such a good idea after all. Just. . .run!"

Quickly, the two cops bolted out of the room, down the emergency staircase, and rode off in the car before JJ knew what was happening.

"What about JJ?" Berkeley inquired as he drove.

"Change of plans," Dee muttered.

"Oh, well. Anyway, I just received word that the hostage crisis has been resolved. The suspect passed out because of the hostage's perfume, and some officers have already taken him into custody."

"What? Then why did we come out here?"

"I don't know. I didn't plan this."

Yup. That would be my fault. Sweatdrop

"Don't be upset," Ryo said to Dee. "At least you learned something about JJ that might prove useful."

Dee grimaced. "JJ? That guy's cr--" Suddenly, an idea struck Dee. "Of course!"

Dee and Ryo were sitting in Ryo's living room with a bottle of wine.

"To you," Dee toasted. "Enjoy your birthday, and have many more."

Great toast. Oh, well. Kumpai!

Setting down his glass, Dee smiled. "And now, my present to you."

Ryo blushed. "You didn't have to get me anything, Dee."

"Of course I did. Everyone knows that if you wanna get some, you have to buy flowers and pre. . ." Dee stopped. "If you want to get some respect, that is. Respect, Ryo! Get back over here and quit flashing me that funny look. Anyway, I had some trouble deciding what to get you. I mean, what do you do in your spare time? Cook? I certainly couldn't get you a cookbook. I don't really know what you read; your books never have titles on them--what are they, anyway? At any rate, I couldn't get you a certificate; that doesn't stack up too many points on the. . .Er, I mean, you're worth more thought than that. And as for clothing, well, I doubt you'd be willing to put on anything I bought for you."

Ryo's blush deepened. He doubted it as well.

I sure wouldn't mind it, though.

Heheheh. . .

Um.

"And so," Dee concluded, "I finally decided on this."

"On what?"

"Follow me. I know you'll love it." Dee stood, led Ryo to his room, and opened the door.

The walls were plastered with candid (not _that_ kind of candid, you hentais!) pictures of Dee.

"Now I can be with you twenty-four seven!"

Ryo paused. Ryo blinked. Ryo screamed. "Aaaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!"

Dee leaned back and gazed perplexedly at Ryo's quickly retreating form.

Damn.

It would take a bit more than the respect line to get Ryo to come near him again this time.

Based on this reaction, he just hoped Ryo didn't chance to see _his_ room.

_That_ would be a doozy.

Yet another evil chapter of our evil story draws to an end. This one came closer to an evil plot, but alas, procrastination let the evil problem resolve itself.

To note, FTEB was in this fic parodying the actual Fake series. After careful deliberation, she decided that bringing an already evil institution such as Fake fanfiction to a new low ultimately accomplished less evil than taking a thing originally good and turning it into an evil product. Think of it as an evil math problem; you waste too much of your time finding an answer you never really wanted to know.

Until we meet again, then, FTEB bids you an evil adieu.


	3. The Conclusion

FTEB growled (evilly, very evilly) and stretched in her evil chair. She glanced at the evil screen of her evil computer--an evil computer that had she had not touched for a month.

The evil computer was used only in season.

Now her evil fingers flew to the evil keyboard; it was time (evil time) to do something productive. Her evil mind was working, and the evil energy had to be channeled into something suitably evil. The evil mouse moved with evil accuracy across the evil screen, aimed, clicked. With an evil raise of an eyebrow, FTEB smirked evilly and began her evil hand of Solitaire.

No. No, this wasn't productive. Frowning, FTEB exited the evil game and opened an evil document. It was evil time to create.

To create what?

An evil flash of lightning struck, and FTEB grinned maniacally.

Something evil was coming this way.

The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic III: The Conclusion

by FTEB

Dee and Ryo were sitting in Ryo's living room with a bottle of wine.

No, I am not confusing this with The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic II, and yes, Ryo did let Dee come within a mile of him--after all the pictures of Dee came off the walls and into someplace where Ryo would never see them again.

They had poured the wine into glasses, and the conversation had now come to a standstill.

They didn't have anything to toast. Not that they ever do.

Finally, Ryo raised his glass. "To the pictures of you in my room coming down," he offered.

Dee grinned. "To the pictures of you in _my_ room staying up."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

The two sipped their glasses with respective smiles. Actually, Ryo sipped his. Dee chugged his. Quickly, Ryo set down his glass and poured Dee another. "Drink up."

Dee shrugged, and drank this one as well. Seizing the moment when Dee looked away, Ryo expertly threw the contents of his glass into a potted plant.

Why?

It seemed Ryo was up to his old tricks again. Quick, get Dee drunk and make him pass out!

Ryo's mind works in complicated little ways.

In fact, there is much more to Ryo than meets the eye.

Although, as he leaned forward seductively in a pair of tight jeans and a flimsy, unbuttoned shirt, quite a bit met the eye.

C'mon, don't be so surprised. We all know Ryo's not at all as innocent as he makes out to be. Always walking around in those little blouses of his, and constantly flirting with everyone in sight. Let's not forget the balcony scene (Matoh Sanami's, not Shakespeare's). Shirt unbuttoned, head tilted back, hand over forehead, wistful look in the eyes. The man's a master. He should teach classes. And then he seems the victim. Sure.

"So, Ryo," Dee began, slightly tipsy.

Alcohol is bad. Don't drink and drive.

'Course, Dee's not driving, is he?

Although he's going to have to ride home sometime (unless he gets really lucky.)

I mean, we're talking about a show about police men who each have cell phones, laptops, and cars in New York Stinkin' City. What do they do, drive to the traffic jams and back?

Oh, well. I'll buy it.

"Isn't the weather nice today?" Dee continued.

All right, all right, so he had nothing better to say.

Enough chit-chat, Dee decided. Swiftly, he launched himself across the sofa and threw himself at Ryo, bearing him over onto the floor.

Same old, same old.

Same old enough, actually, that Ryo was fully prepared. He isn't stupid, after all. Everybody learns sometime. The floor had been lined around the sofa with soft, plush pillows, a reading light, and a small collection of books. There were also breathmints and chapstick.

I told you he isn't stupid.

"You wanted to talk, Dee?" Ryo inquired casually.

After a while, the novelty of being flung unto a floor decreases.

And no, Dee didn't want to talk. nudgenudge Therefore, Dee ignored the question and proceeded to not talk. nudgenudge

Ryo, however, was slightly miffed about his get-Dee-drunk plan not working (of course, maybe it was) and so did not want to not talk, and tried desperately to get Dee off of him. He grabbed the fabric of Dee's shirt and pulled with all of his strength.

No, that's not all that desperate. Sorry.

As it happens, that didn't get Dee off of him. That only accomplished ripping Dee's shirt off, which was quite anti-productive.

Ryo isn't stupid, but he's no genius, either.

Unless this was what he was going for all along, which is quite possible, considering. . .

Really, everyone thinks Ryo to be some kind of woe-begotten tragic hero who must put up with the lemons (bad pun) life throws his way. But this is hardly the case. Remember: Ryo always gets what he wants. He always gets the nice cup of coffee and quality bonding time (and make-out time) with Dee. Dee, on the other hand, never gets what he wants (which is the only thing that keeps Fake within the PG-13 limits). And _then_, because Ryo is rarely the initiator, he still gets to act straight and hit on girls whenever he wants.

Which is, admittedly, never, but that's his problem!

Finally, Ryo got his mouth free (let's not go into how or why). "Stop," he told Dee.

Dee didn't listen.

"Please stop."

Still didn't listen.

"Stop now!"

Nope.

Then Ryo whipped out a bazooka from under the pillows and aimed it at Dee's face. "Stop."

Told you he was prepared.

"Fine, fine," Dee mumbled. Geez. The things he had to put up with. He frowned and leaned back towards the sofa. He loved Ryo, but the man was a shameless tease.

Too true. You have to admit, Ryo's something of a tramp. What a gigolo. Back in reference to England (so many memories. . .), wow, did his thought process ever make sense! He takes his vacation time with Dee, goes to a "secluded, little romantic" hotel with him, and makes out with him on the infamous balcony, but he doesn't know how he feels about him. None of this means he likes him; he does this with guys all the time.

Now, you could argue that he was trying to sort out his feelings with this trip. But, in that case, next you'll be telling me that you don't know how you feel about your best friend, and you think marrying him might help you decide.

And if you've already gone and done that, congrats!

And then, to ice out the cake, in the face of his promiscuous behavior, we are told that Ryo is a virgin.

Right.

This is New York City. There are no twenty-seven (give or take a few) year-old virgins in New York City. That's really pushing it too far.

And besides. Have you ever _seen_ Ryo? He must have to beat them off with a nightstick.

And so, having seen Ryo and being fully aware of all of its implications, a frustrated Dee grumbled and lit a cigarette. Stupid, shameless Ryo. If he had known that this was the way Ryo really was when he first met him, he would have tucked his heart a bit higher into his sleeve.

That thought brought a totally unrelated memory of Dee and Ryo's first meeting.

"Are you Oriental? You have dark eyes."

Technically, these are hardly linked. But all of Dee's Oriental friends have dark eyes, and only a significant percent of his non-Oriental friends have dark eyes, and so, using the magnificent law of probability, Dee reached his brilliant conclusion.

"Um, yeah. . . I'm half-Japanese."

"Do you have a Japanese name, too, then?"

"It's Ryo."

"Do you absolutely, positively hate being called Ryo more than anything else in the entire world?"

"Well, I. . .uh. . .I wouldn't say _that_, but. . ."

"Ryo it is, then. I'll call you Ryo."

Man. You know, if I met someone named 'Randy,' even if he didn't look remotely Oriental, I'd still ask if he had a Japanese name.

And poor Ryo. Now the name sticks, and although he doesn't absolutely, positively hate it more than anything else in the entire world, he didn't seem too thrilled when the fad of calling him Ryo started.

Still, that's not the world's biggest problem. Even Dee had more personal problems as he kept mumbling angrily to himself. Reclining backwards, he suddenly bumped his head on the sofa arm. "Ow!" he exclaimed.

Suddenly, Ryo leapt to Dee and kissed him.

Stunned, but not for long, Dee threw his cigarette away and returned the kiss.

Unfortunately, the cigarette landed in the plant recently watered with alcohol, and the entire pot burst into flames. Quickly, Ryo leapt from Dee, brought out a fire extinguisher from the kitchen, and put out the fire. He sighed in relief, and then grimaced. The moment had been ruined.

However, Dee had very cleverly caught on to the trend.

And it was a useful little trend, too. Has anyone noticed that whenever Dee is hurt, Ryo flings himself into his arms and proceeds to make out with him while Dee bleeds to death?

Not very responsible, if you ask me.

But now that Dee had unearthed the secret of the universe (almost), he was not hesitant to put it to good use. "Ouch!" he complained. "I scratched my ankle!"

Immediately, Ryo was back on Dee and was continuing their previous activity.

"Man!" Dee elaborated. "I jammed my finger!"

Ryo pulled Dee's shirt the rest of the way off, and began working on his own.

"Argh!" Dee cried. "My back is killing me!"

Ryo stood up, pulled Dee into his unlit bedroom, and slammed the door closed.

You know what happened next.

Bicky and Cal walked in! And not into the apartment; they entered straight into the bedroom (they're magic). Cal flicked on the lights and flopped down onto the bed, while Bicky snarled and kicked Dee in the face.

At this point, Ryo was about to jump Dee again, but Bicky began chasing or being chased _by_ Dee (it's hard to tell) about the room and spoiled all his chances of landing.

"Bicky!" he yelled. "What are you doing?!"

The boy ignored his question, but did stop running around and joined Cal on the bed.

"Argh!" Dee cried, and meant it this time. "Bicky! Why can't you ever mind your own business!"

"I'll never mind my own business," Bicky retorted. "I'll always interfere! You're not getting anywhere with Ryo while Cal and I are around to help it!"

Those kids are _way_ too involved in Ryo's love-life.

"Why you!" Dee continued. "Go to the bathroom and pee instead, you annoying kid!"

And everyone else is _way_ too interested in Bicky's toilette activities.

No one has a life.

"Are you guys hungry?" Ryo (a.k.a. Martha Stewart) asked. "Why don't you go to Bicky's room, and I'll make you a salad?"

Bicky and Cal agreed and retreated.

"You know," Dee remarked when they were gone. "I've never seen you like tonight."

"Thanks. The blouse is new."

Dee paused. "Um. What I meant was, I hadn't ever thought you were really interested in me. . .in that way. . ."

Ryo blushed, and started to deny it, but then he stopped. This was no time for lies and cover-ups.

True, it wasn't different from any other time, but do you mind?

"Well, you see, Dee. . ." he began carefully. "The truth is. . ." He felt as though he were on the brink of a great height, looking down into the chilling depths, but he found no fear in falling. Instead, he took a breath and jumped.

And then he took a breath and continued, since jumping really didn't do him much good, did it?

"It's hard to say this, Dee. I never thought I would. I-I've loved you for a long time. I could never admit it, but I love you."

Dee looked at him in hopeful surprise. "What. . .?"

Ryo flushed under Dee's incredulous gaze and felt the familiar fear pulling at his mind, felt his mouth twitch with the instinct to recall his words. But for once, he was adamant in his decision. Ryo forced his lips to move, to say the words that had been whispering in his heart for so long. "Since before I saw you, I have loved you. Before I knew what love was, I have loved you. Before love existed, I have loved you, and my love grows with every passing day, with every breath I take. In my every thought, in my every dream, in my every hope, you are there. I suffocate without you. I die without you. I need you. I want you. I cannot bear another moment without you; I cannot imagine a life without you in it. I love you, Dee."

Dee sat unmoving, plunged into a state of shock. Suddenly, he pulled Ryo into his arms and kissed him passionately. Ryo let Dee lower him onto the bed, numb with his own brand of astonishment. As Dee's lips moved down to his neck, he felt a salty wetness on his lips. It startled him to realize it was tears. Or sweat.

Dee embraced Ryo tightly and nestled his face into his shoulder. "I love you too, Ryo. I've always loved you. I knew the moment we met that I lived only for you. My entire life, I've been waiting for you, and I would wait for a hundred more lifetimes. I would damn the world and send the world to hell if that's what it took. I would die a thousand deaths, if one of them could be in your arms. I love you. More than anything else, I want you to know that."

Ryo smiled happily and blinked away the tears that stung at his eyes. "Thank you, Dee. That's what I'd been waiting for. I've never been sure. . ."

Actually, we know that he had really been waiting for Dee to get some good injuries, but it's a white lie.

Carefully, Ryo brought up Dee's face and kissed him softly.

"Ryo, where's that salad?!"

"Coming!" Ryo shrugged apologetically and headed for the kitchen.

"Wait, Ryo," Dee said. "I'll help. From tonight onward, I'll do everything with you."

"Thank you, Dee. . ."

Supporting each other, Dee and Ryo walked through the threshold.

"But you do the onions."

"What? That's not fair! Hey! _Hey! Get back here!_"

It was going to be a long night.

An evil chapter in an evil series. How fitting.

In other notes, FTEB has discovered a wonderful creation called Advil, and will not be continuing the saga. She thanks you for your time and hopes you have enjoyed the trilogy. Because FTEB has been demoted from a PMSing female teenage evil being to simply a female teenage evil being, she will be able to satisfy her evil urges simply by capturing human males and forcing them to watch hours of yaoi and shonen-ai anime.

There's her first victim now.

And so, thank you and good bye.


End file.
